


Bed-time story: Monday

by Big_Blue



Series: Bed-time story [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-04-03 17:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Blue/pseuds/Big_Blue
Summary: The Monday after: what happens when Scully and Mulder meet at the office after Scully's Saturday night experience.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Bed-time story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548997
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "Bed-time story: Saturday" which should be read first, otherwise this story doesn't make sense.  
"Bed-time story: Saturday" itself can be read individually.

As she was closing the distance to their shared office, the sense of dread that had accompanied her all morning grew. She had gotten up even earlier than usual after a night of more tossing and turning than sleep to be at work before he showed up, not wanting to be the one to enter the room with him already there, looking up from whatever he was doing and right in her face, in her eyes. While his attention was almost always welcome, today it was the least thing she wanted.

She had planned to engross herself in some very important paperwork and mostly ignore him, just nod when he started a rant about some recent extraordinary incident, go “uh-huh” and maybe argue a little against him, just so he wouldn’t get suspicious.

But now that she was about to reach the office door, the knot in her stomach grew tighter and tighter, and she had the strong premonition that Mulder was already there.

_Get a grip, Dana_, she commanded herself. It wasn’t as if he could read her mind. As if he could know how she had spent her Saturday night, how she had touched herself thinking of him, and how it had left her with a mixture of constant arousal, confusion, and shame. And a pinch of denial.

Although Mulder had heard Scully’s footsteps approaching, he still flinched when he saw the doorknob turning and the door opening. She walked in, and he caught sight of her face for an instant before he averted his eyes and stared at the random file on his desk again, mumbling “Morning, Scully.”

_Great job, you jerk_, he chastised himself. _That sure was inconspicuous._

But she didn’t seem to notice his strange behavior. “Morning, Mulder,” she muttered barely intelligibly, hurrying to her chair in long strides. She immediately began ruffling papers and busying herself with something.

Then it dawned on him. _Oh shit. She knows._

But how could she? There was only one possibility. She had gotten the same e-mail.

Mulder felt sick.

For a moment, he was sure she could read it all in his face, the way that story he had gotten by e-mail had sucked him in and how he had touched himself, thinking about her…

His ears started to burn.

But there was no way she could know, he just had to get his act together. But maybe… he felt a wave of nausea hit him. What if she thought HE had sent that thing to her?

“Scully, it wasn’t me!” he blurted out.

He wanted to slap himself.

She turned around, staring at him. “What?”

Oh god. “Scully… did you… um… you got that e-mail as well, didn’t you?”

He had never seen her facial features derail like this before. There was his answer.

She couldn’t meet his eyes and turned bright red. “Yes”, she said in a low voice that contained none of her trademark no-bullshit-vibe while staring into her lap.

“Scully… I wasn’t the one who sent this… thing. If that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. They could sort this out and he could keep his little mental erotic adventure with her to himself, right?

“Mulder… I… I can’t do this,” she forced out. He could only watch helplessly as she jumped up, grabbed her coat and fled, not even bothering to shut the door behind her. The staccato of her heels was rapidly fading as she reached the end of the hall and disappeared.

Mulder covered his face with his hands and sighed. Oh fuck, what now?


	2. Chapter 2

Scully all but ran to the elevator, hitting the call button repeatedly with her fist. The door opened almost immediately since it had still been sitting on their basement floor.

Thank God for small favors, she thought humorlessly, stepped in and made her way to the parking garage. She had to get out of there, away from Mulder. She was aware she was acting irrational, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t talk about this, not with anyone and especially not with Mulder.

Scully raced home, ignoring speed limits and the voice in her head that told her to calm down. She slammed her apartment door shut behind her and leaned against it, glad to be in the safety of her home.

She suspected Mulder would come knocking eventually, but she would just pretend she wasn’t there.

But he has a key, doesn’t he, smarty-pants?, that voice in her head said, now with an ugly mocking tone. Not to mention the fact that her car was parked right in front of her house with one wheel on the curb.

“Shut the fuck up,” she told herself. She made her way to her overstuffed couch and flopped down.

_______________________________________________________________________________

After Scully had split, Mulder just sat there, staring open-mouthed after her and wondering what the hell just happened. He wasn’t responsible for that e-mail. And he was dead sure she wasn’t either.

So why had she lost her mind like that? He could understand she was a little embarrassed, given what was painted in that story in all possible beautiful colors, and so was he; but he had his own special reasons, didn’t he?

A thought entered his mind. Had she… no, that was impossible. But it would explain why she had fallen apart like that.

He would have expected her to analyze the whole mess with her usual razor sharp logic, only to figure out who had sent that story to them. And he had been anxious because he had been sure she would see right through him and find out that he had actually liked what he read. That it had aroused him.

As his mind wandered back to some of his favorite explicit parts of that story, he felt his body respond to the images floating through his head with a twitch of his groin.  
“Are you serious?” he reprimanded himself out loud in the direction of his crotch.

He shook his head to clear his mind, then got up from his seat. He had to talk to Scully and clear this thing up. And a boner sure wouldn’t help.

_______________________________________________________________________________

A knock on the door startled Scully out of her reverie. Go away, Mulder, she willed him in her thoughts, feeling miserably.

Of course he didn’t listen. Did he ever?  
He knocked again.

“Scully, I know you’re there. Please, open the door”, she heard him say in a soft voice.

She remained where she was, stubbornly refusing to move.

“Scully, PLEASE. We need to talk about this.” He sounded desperate now and on the verge of begging.

And she knew he was right. They had to sort this out somehow. But couldn’t that wait? For, like, a few hundred years?

“Scully, I’m not going to leave. Let me in, or I’ll use my key.”

She sighed, defeated. Scully got up and made her way to the door in small steps. She wished her apartment was bigger, that it would take her much longer to reach it than just a couple of seconds.

She turned the knob and opened the door, but didn’t step aside to let Mulder in. He looked just as terrible as she felt.

“Scully.” He was deprived of all his vocabulary, was at a loss all of a sudden how to start, what to say.

Scully wasn’t helping. She refused to even look at him properly.

“Scully,” he tried again. “Can I come in?”

She took a step to the right. Mulder crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

“Scully,” he said again, feeling like broken record or a parrot who only knew one word.  
“Look at me, please,” he managed to croak.

She took a deep breath and tilted her head up to him.

“I feel as awkward about this as you do. But we didn’t do anything wrong, right? I mean, some weirdo sent us this… e-mail. You got it, too, didn’t you?”, Mulder rambled. Now that he had found his words again, he couldn’t seem to stop talking.

“Yes. I did.”

He was so relieved to finally hear her talk, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“We can sort this out. I’m sure we could find out who sent it, if that’s helping you. The Gunmen…”

Scully’s face, which had already been white to begin with, turned even more ashen. “Mulder, we most definitely will not, I repeat, will NOT show any of this to the Gunmen or anyone else!”

“Okay, okay,” he backed off, holding up his hands. “They wouldn’t have to read it. We just tell them we got a strange e-mail…”

“No,” she interrupted resolutely. “It’s bad enough as it is. I don’t need anybody else to know about this.”

Mulder nodded. “Alright. I won’t tell anybody. And I haven’t. I promise.”

That seemed to relax her a little. “Let’s sit down,” she offered.

He followed her to her couch, only now realizing that she was still wearing her coat and pumps. Had she been sitting there this whole time without even bothering to take off her coat and shoes?

He slipped his own jacket off his shoulders, and she seemed to become aware of her own appearance. She quickly kicked her pumps off and shrugged out of her coat. He took it from her and folded it neatly on the near-by armchair.

“Thanks.”

“Scully, we can just pretend this never happened, if that makes you feel better,” he suggested.

Her face reddened. “Mulder, I…” she started, then trailed off. She avoided his gaze again.

The room fell silent for a beat while he gathered up his last remaining courage. “Scully… Is it possible that…. do you… did you like what you read? Because I did.” Those last words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, and his shocked expression matched hers.

She swallowed. At last, she fixated his eyes with hers. “I did, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

Scully felt the mixture of emotions that had been driving her crazy for the past days almost overwhelm her.

“Mulder,” she began, her voice soft but serious. “You’re my best friend. My confidant. You’re the only one I trust with my life.”

I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anybody but you.

“And I don’t want to risk losing that. Losing you.”

He considered her words for a moment.

“Scully...” He covered her hand with his own. She didn’t pull away.

“You mean more to me than anybody else,” he continued. “And I would never risk our partnership and our friendship. But…”

He paused for a second. Scully’s heart was beating so loud she was sure he was able to hear it.

“But what if there’s more for us to discover? Don’t you feel sometimes that… we could be more?”

“What are you saying, Mulder?” she asked quietly. “Does this mean… that you want a relationship?”

No beating around the bush this time. If he was here to talk, they’d be talking.

“Maybe we should take it slow. How about a date first?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Are you asking me out, Mulder?”

He chuckled. “I… I guess I am. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight, Ms Scully?”

She hesitated, so he hurried to add, “I promise, I’d never do anything that’s not okay with you. I just… I like to spend time with you, Scully. Not just at work.”

She was moved by his honest confession.

“That goes both ways, Mulder.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. It is.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

At precisely seven o´clock that night, Scully heard her doorbell ring. She felt her stomach flip. When was the last time she had felt that way? It seemed like a lifetime ago. She took a deep breath, then opened the door to the hallway.

“Hi,” she said, nervously tucking a nonexistent strand of her coppery hair behind her ear.  
Mulder just stood there, mouth slightly open. Just as she began to feel even more uncomfortable, he managed to croak, “uh, hi.”

He pulled himself together.

” I mean, uh… you look beautiful, Scully.” He actually blushed and found a sudden interest in his shoes. He had never seen here like this before. He wasn’t blind, he knew how pretty she was and he had always been attracted to her. Tonight though, she simply blew him away.  
She wore a navy blue, silky dress with spaghetti straps that made her eyes sparkle even more than usual, and her hair looked so soft and shiny that he wanted to bury his face in it and deeply inhale her scent.

Scully smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Shall we?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

Without even thinking, he softly placed his hand on her elbow, and together they walked down the hall. 

Mulder’s hand on her arm seemed warmer than usual. It felt like his heat was leaving a mark on her skin. It didn’t cause her discomfort, though. The opposite was true. She felt her whole body respond to his presence, even stronger than usual.  
But this time, she let it happen, even welcomed the sensation, instead of pretending it wasn’t happening.

She couldn’t help but admit Mulder was looking absolutely gorgeous that night. He was wearing blue jeans and a light black sweater. He was clean-shaven and she detected a faint but exquisite whiff of cologne.

Scully felt a certain tingle rise that she tried to suppress immediately. Get a grip, for Christ’s sake. They had agreed to take it slow, right? She didn’t want to plunge into this, whatever this was, head over heels and wake up with regrets. Not again.

Date Mulder proved to be a gentleman. He opened the door to his car for her, helped her in and didn’t spare with appreciative glances. Scully found herself charmed immensely by him.

After a short drive, Mulder stopped the car in front of a fancy Italian restaurant. They had a separate booth for themselves which allowed them some privacy.  
Her nervousness started to vanish as they easily slipped into a conversation, avoiding work topics and concentrating on each other for once. Mulder focused fully on her and her well-being, and she enjoyed herself.

As they ate and talked, Scully felt more and more comfortable. She smiled a lot, laughed at his jokes. She realized it had been a long time since she’d had such a good time.

Mulder seemed to enjoy himself as well. When he made her laugh, he beamed with satisfaction. The sound of her laughter was music to his ears.

She should laugh way more often, he thought with a pang of guilt. When she does, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

But he hadn’t exactly contributed to her happiness, had he? His search for the truth had cost her so much, had caused her so much pain.

Whatever happens, wherever this will lead us, I’ll do everything I can to make her happy, he swore to himself.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Scully was surprised how easy it was. Them not being Agents Mulder and Scully on a case, but, for the first time really, being Dana and Fox on a date.

We’ve always been good together, she thought. And maybe she had always suspected that there was potential for more, a potential that seemed dangerous and she had thus chosen to ignore early on.

But tonight she felt her resistance crumble, her strict professionalism give way to a Dana that was loosening up, and it felt good.  
She was being funny, she was smart as ever, she was absolutely stunning.

You only live once, she thought after her second glass of wine. No need for becoming reckless though…

Mulder told her a story about his childhood, how his friend Pete from a couple of houses down the street and him had been monster-hunting in the woods when they both were in third grade.  
“He was convinced that there was a monster lurking in the woods behind his house. We sneaked out when our parents were asleep and searched the woods with flashlights,” Mulder recalled, laughing.

Scully chuckled. “And? Did you find the monster?”

“No, we never did. But we got lost, we were hungry and cold and our parents went ballistic once we finally made our way home again. It was early morning by then.”

“So it’s still out there. We should open an X-file.”

Mulder looked at her, a big smile on his face. He thought back to their very first case together, how they met in his – their – office, shook hands. How this agent who had seemed so young had waltzed into his life and changed it forever. How they had been standing in the rain and the mud together. How she had bared her body to him and how he had bared his soul.

And how from then on they had pursued the same path, how she had surprised him with her strength, her intelligence, her loyalty. How she had saved him more than once. How she had backed him up. Always.

“What is it, Mulder?”

Her voice brought him back to the present. He became aware he had been staring at her while losing himself in memories.

“Remember Oregon, Scully?” he asked softly. 

She covered his hand with hers. “Of course I do.”

He didn’t say anything else, but there was no need to. They both had come a long way.

She gave his hand a little squeeze and smiled at him. He felt the urge to kiss her there and then, but he restrained himself. He didn’t want to push things.

“You up for dessert?” he asked instead.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

After they had shared some tiramisu, and Mulder had paid the check – he insisted on it despite her protests –, he helped her into her light coat and they made their way back to his car. They walked in companionable silence.

Again, he opened the passenger door for her, then slipped behind the wheel and started the engine.  
Scully was the first one to speak.

“Mulder?”

“Mhmm?”

“This was… this is nice.”

He turned to catch a quick glimpse of her and the honest smile. He smiled back at her before he willed his attention back on the road ahead of them.

“ I think so, too, Scully.” And, after a pause: “I’d like to do this again.”

“Me too, Mulder.”

He walked her to the door of her apartment building. On the stoop, they turned towards each other.

Should I invite him in? she thought. Maybe it’s a little too early for that.

Mulder leaned down to her and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. He didn’t linger too long, but long enough to leave a sensation on her skin that felt like an imprint.

“Good night, Scully”, he said as if he had heard her thoughts.

“Good night, Mulder.”


End file.
